Scream to a Sigh
by Miss Anne Thropy
Summary: Sirius feels that he's going further and further into madness while being trapped in 12 Grimmauld Place. But is he really screaming into silence as he's convinced that he is? And will he listen to those telling him other wise? OotP compliant.


_Disclaimers-Characters owned by JKR/Bloomsbury/WB et al. Not making any profit from this fanfiction.  
_

_Scream To A Sigh._

Sirius suspects that this is truly what the slippery slope to madness feels like. Walking around, from room to room, looking for something that he knows he can't find.

Feeling insubstantial despite the fact that he knows their eyes are on his every move. He's sure that they can tell anyone who asks which rooms he's gone into and how many times. They will describe his clothing or the state of his hair to anyone that cares to ask about it.

He talks, but it doesn't feel like anyone is really listening to him. Some people respond, but the rest only give him coolly amused looks. The kind that are given to the nutters wandering the streets. He has started to think that if he were to scream long and loud, no one would notice. He's sure that when that thought crosses his mind that his sanity has started the slow descent into insanity. He's sure of it.

The house doesn't help, since it's all gloom, darkness and death in every corner. He has to laugh sometimes, when he's alone. It's a mausoleum and he's been interred in it fully alive. Fate was always ironic. He didn't go mad in Azkaban, but he's going mad in his own house.

He tries to not drink too much to dull the anger and the ache that chase each other around his chest. But occasionally his hand slips and the next day he wakes up under a desk somewhere. Luckily he can always clean up and get sober before anyone can really notice how fucked up he really is.

He keeps at it for months. Remus visits as much as he can and these visits are lifelines that he desperately needs to keep afloat. But they can't be as frequent as both men would want. The sex is harsh and blunt when it happens. It hurts. He doesn't mind the bruises. Or the cuts. Occasionally he taunts Remus into biting him, seeing that since he's already fucked, might as well go the whole way.

He's got a broken nose for his trouble and the cold shoulder for about two weeks. Or at least that's his guess. Although the physical wounds hurt, the silence and polite frostiness that Remus shows when he fixes up his nose is worse.

Sirius thinks that's the start of him hiding in the wardrobe and rocking back and forth in the darkness for hours. He doesn't know why he feels the need to be in such an enclosed space and rocking himself constantly until he wears himself out. He just knows that in the darkness, he feels safe. He feels that everything outside is just an illusion and if he closes his eyes, things will go back to the way that they were supposed to when he was young. He's still trying to figure out where the life he was promised went to. Where is his great reward? He knew he wouldn't get happiness. But some kind of semblance of it would be nice to have, at least.

Sirius is careful to not fall asleep in the wardrobe. Or at least to not fall asleep at the most inopportune times. He knows that if Snivellus found him like that he'd never live it down. But as he very well knows, luck always runs out.

But at least to his mortified relief, it is Remus dragging out of the wardrobe and into the harsh light of the room. His eyes water at the sudden light and he knows that's why he doesn't notice the tight line that is Remus's mouth or the suspicious way that his eyes catch the light and look brighter than before.

The next thing that happens is that Remus cracks him one across the face really hard, leaving him stunned and shocked as Remus grabs onto him and embraces him tightly. Sirius stands there, not sure what is going on until he hears Remus's breath hitching and his shoulders shaking. That's when he realizes that Remus is crying and he's not sure what to do.

Sirius isn't given much of an option to act because Remus drags him to the bed. At first he thinks that they are going to have one of the rough fucks that his body has been craving and is almost like a child at Christmas. But when Remus only lies there, holding him tightly, he realizes that Remus is the one that needs the comfort of just being there beside him and immediately feels selfish for worrying him.

Sirius apologizes, but Remus silences him with quiet words. Remus then starts talking, the words stumbling among the sharp intakes of breath he needs to take in order to not lose control again.

He apologizes to Sirius for not seeing how hard things have been for him, being in the house. He had seen how Sirius flittered about the house like a ghost, but thought it would pass. Not until the night that Sirius goaded him did he understand how much deeper it went. That was why he had been so angry and worried and upset when he had pulled him out of the wardrobe. He thought Sirius had finally gone round the bend and done something rash.

He sees it and will try to help, he tells Sirius as he draws him closer and holds him. He will keep an eye out and make sure that Sirius doesn't feel like he is screaming out into an abyss with no one to notice.

Sirius doesn't know if it will work. Remus is always away. But at least he appreciates the gesture. It is so Moony, to try and make things better even if he lacks the tools to do so. But at least he is willing to try.

They fall asleep, Remus still whispering comforting words to Sirius, who is lulled to sleep by them.

The next day, they are still lying together and it is then that they finally fuck. Harshly, painfully, but at least it keeps the despair and insanity away.

They walk downstairs in silence and Sirius sees him off. Remus touches his face before he leaves. Sirius watches him disappear and then goes upstairs to lie on the bed.

He inhales Moony's lingering scent and closes his eyes. He's still got a lifeline, he realizes belatedly.

He won't go mad.

Not today.

End.


End file.
